The Illusionist's Shield
by firstForward
Summary: Dark Marik split his soul into several vessels, long ago. Now Marik has to collect all the pieces again. Of course things will not end peacefully, and inevitably Yuugi gets caught in the middle of it.


The Illusionist's Shield

The skin under his hands was soft, pale, and more importantly delicate: he almost frowned as his fingers moved to crush the muscles against her jawbone, leaving red marks in their wake sure to transform into bruises. A quiet, helpless gasp left her throat. He ignored the desperate look in her wide eyes, the cloying scent of her perfume, and took firmer hold of her neck. And _squeezed_.

"Marik," was the only word that left her mouth, and her fingers clawed, clawed, grasping in his shirt, tugging at his hand around her throat.

The miserable noises she was making were not enough to deter him. He kept his gaze steady, cold, unyielding. His hand didn't falter in its grip. Téa kicked out at his feet, trying anything and everything to get loose. Yet it was not her. He knew this. It never had been, since the moment their eyes had met from opposite sides of the street. So he remained where he was, not moving an inch, taking the blows of her shoes against his shins and knees without wincing.

She was dying.

"Come out, come out," he murmured in a steely undertone. Blood from her nails leaked out from scratch marks on his arms. Marik didn't even acknowledge it. "Your vessel is dying, and you can't have that, now can you? Do you think I wouldn't kill her? Are you counting on my sympathy? Friendship? What is it, hmm?"

Her dry tongue slid out from her teeth, and her last exhaled breath washed over his hand, pained and short. Marik watched her struggles die down. And saw her eyes glint.

Abruptly, he switched tactics, and slammed his head into hers, letting their skulls crash against each other. She went limp suddenly, consciousness dissolved, but Marik watched her pupils narrow and saw the second mind rise to greet him. A garbled noise left her throat.

Pressing his other hand to her forehead, he tried to clam the rapid firing of his nerves to stop his minor trembling. Her head twisted, neck convulsing, and then Marik was staring at himself. Violet eyes met each other, one set furious, the other determined.

Speaking quickly in an ancient tongue, Marik reached out towards the mind below him. Reached out with his thoughts. His feelings, his heart. Anything to establish a connection.

_There._

A wispy trail of white bubbled up from where his palm was against her forehead. Marik reached, and reached, and tried to soak it in. But he needn't have even bothered: already he could feel the partial soul being absorbed by his own, painfully, but that was to be expected. He was taking in his darkness, after all. The part of himself that he had tried to leave behind, so many years ago. The part he should have known couldn't be destroyed so easily. Marik was convinced he could win out over it this time, however. Even though he was taking it in once more, he would be the stronger mind. The stronger personality...

The last of the piece of the soul diffused through his skin, filling a patch of his own soul that he hadn't even remembered existed, had he not just felt it sew itself back together. Marik released his grip with a shuddering breath. And dropped to his knees, hands on the shoulders of the woman crumpled on the pavement. "Téa! Téa!"

Still unconscious, probably. Heart pounding, he pressed his fingers back to her throat; felt her pulse. Then he moved his head downward, listening with his ear over her mouth to her now deepening breathing. A very relieved look came over his face for an instant. Then he dug out his cell phone to dial for an ambulance.

He regretted nothing, of course.

Marik didn't know exactly when he had started assaulting bare acquaintances and former employees (he didn't even know what term to use, though employees were pretty far from what they'd been to him), but he did know the reason. After the Pharaoh's departure, he'd set about trying to destroy everything that could have ever connected him to the criminal organization that he'd once been the leader of. It only made sense to him to start tracking down everyone who his darker self had taken an interest in, and remove all traces of himself from them. That was to say that...

His darker personality had been tearing up his soul all that time ago, little by little, and had been hiding them in places he was sure would allow him to live on, even if he did manage to fail against the Pharaoh. Even Marik himself had had difficulties finding the pieces again.

He'd travelled, picking up what information he could. He'd bargained and cajoled and threatened and had eventually found every man who'd been but a slave to him, every contact who'd veered away from anything and everything Egyptian to avoid further dealings with him. Terrified, hating, they'd avoided him, but Marik had found them all. Eventually. Sure, it had taken a few years, but in the end it had been done. Documents were destroyed. Pacts made.

He was not a criminal anymore, so _no one could know_ about what'd he done. And they'd agreed, all of them. Disobedience resulting in a terrible consequence was still carved into their heads, after all.

So in his journey, Marik had found the men whose bodies served as vessels for pieces of himself. And little by little, he grew out of his need for redemption. Marik was too busy trying to save himself.

Téa. She'd been standing so innocently across the street in New York, surrounded by suits, cocktail dresses and briefcases. Téa, eyes distractedly checking her watch, fingers gripped around a bag that Marik had vaguely wondered could have contained dance shoes and a ballet outfit. As he'd stood there, startled at seeing someone so unexpected as her, his soul had hummed and craved and Marik had stared and had known, rather instantly. He'd forgotten. How could he have forgotten?

Implanting a piece of himself in one of the Pharaoh's closest friends. It had made so much sense before. But as he'd stood there, feeling the distinct loss and knowledge that that piece of himself resided in her, Marik had cursed his past self to oblivion. How could he have let her get involved? Granted, he'd had different goals back then. Still, it bothered him. Because he knew what needed to be done. His darker personality would not allow himself to become whole once again so easily. Marik had grimaced at the sort of man he'd have to be, to take down that piece of himself. At the scars he was sure to leave. Still, he had not imagined that the Marik residing in Téa would choose to avoid confrontation to see if he would be allowed to live. Had the kind woman influenced that part of him somehow? Had that piece of himself longed for freedom in life?

Snapping the phone shut with a click, knowing the ambulance was on its way, Marik sat in the alley with her head in his lap and tried to think about new objectives, rather than past grievances. And for a moment, a smile touched his lips. With the piece from Téa, now there was only a single piece remaining. One final piece of his darker self to absorb.

His next target would be Arkana...

xXx

Dizzy, disoriented, she yawned before opening her eyes, stretching her mouth wide and snapping it closed with a moan when she felt her muscles cry out in protest. Téa blinked her eyes blearily, and raised a hand up to her jaw, feeling a line of bruises aching all the way up to her ears. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she got a good look around at the stark white hospital room and started at the noises from out in the hall. Her fingers clutched tentatively at the bed sheets.

In strode Seto Kaiba in a crisp suit, giving the whole room a glance before meeting her gaze. "I was driving by when I saw you on a stretcher being put in the ambulance." He said, skipping a greeting completely. Téa blinked, feeling a little better at waking up in a location she hadn't put herself in at seeing his familiar face, though she would never tell him that. She was aware that he seemed a little uncomfortable, and doubted that he was used to visiting someone in a hospital. And her, of all people. A friend of Yuugi's, not even his friend directly.

"I didn't realize you were in New York," she murmured with interest, settling back against her pillows, relaxing somewhat. Kaiba came into the room further and set a bouquet of flowers on her bedside table.

"I'm here on business," he answered shortly, as if it weren't obvious. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he added with a look at the bouquet, "It's customary to bring someone in a hospital a fruit basket or flowers, isn't it?"

She offered him a brilliant smile. "Yes. They're beautiful, thank-you. I appreciate it." After some hesitation, her fingers reached out and grasped the flowers to take in their scent. A confused look crossed her face for a second as something occurred to her. "Who called the ambulance...?"

"Marik Ishtar."

A shock went up her spine, and she tensed, glancing about the room.

"No, he's gone. Said he had something important to do. A flight to catch."

Suddenly anxious and upset, Téa grabbed hold of his sleeve, and stressed out, "We have to get a hold of Yuugi. Marik will be going back to Japan, I'm sure of it. There's a connection there that he wants to break. You have a cell phone, don't you, Kaiba?" She pleaded.

Frowning, he shook off her hand and removed the high-tech phone from his suit pocket. "I can hardly see what would be so urgent that you need to phone Yuugi," Kaiba returned, a little exasperated.

"You wouldn't believe me," Téa shot back, "even if I told you. Just let me warn Yuugi he's going to be there, please?" After another moment, shrugging, Kaiba handed over the phone with the number set to dial. There was a fleeting thought in Téa's mind that found it amusing that he had Yuugi's number in his contacts list. Then she placed the phone next to her ear, and listened for the rings.

On the third ring, there was a click as the phone picked up the call on the other end of the line. "Hello hello..."

She was relieved that it wasn't too early for him to be up —for a moment the problem of time difference had bothered her, but Yuugi was thankfully available. "It's Téa," she informed him after an intake of breath.

An instant change of tone from him. "It's good to hear from you," he replied warmly.

Deciding to just jump right into what she wanted to tell him, Téa began, "Yuugi, this is going to sound crazy, but all those years ago when we thought Marik's dark personality was sent to the Shadow Realm for good, he wasn't. There's part of him that still lives on, and I think Marik's heading to Japan to finish the fight he started in Battle City," she rushed through her explanation, words tumbling out in an effort to not be interrupted by some dubious comment from her friend. Kaiba was standing beside her with eyebrows raised, seemingly more amused with her talk than concerned. "Yuugi?" She ventured, wondering if he could possibly believe her.

There was a cautious note in his voice. "But how could that be, Téa?"

Téa stared into the empty space in front of her as though she could see his face, and firmed her mouth into a thin line like she was preparing to defend herself. "Because for years now, without my knowing it, I've been living with a piece of Marik's soul. And he just attacked me to take it back." She told him.

With a huff, Kaiba snatched the phone out of her hand and spoke over the highly concerned voice of Yuugi. "Yuugi. It's me. I wouldn't put much stock into her opinions at the moment. I didn't see the incident, but I had a look at her medical reports and the doctors suspect possible emotional and psychological damage after seeing her injuries. She's got some head injuries, bruising. And now she's babbling. Don't be too worried over it; I'll see to it that she gets the best medical attention." Téa gave him an irritated look, shuffling forward in her bed to try and grab the phone back out of his hand. Kaiba put a hand on her shoulder and avoided the attempts with a bored look on his face, further irritating her.

"It's not true! Yuugi, believe me, okay?" Téa said loudly, hoping to be heard though she was some feet away from the device. Kaiba watched her movements with some mild curiosity. "I felt it, like this other presence Marik pulled from my mind. It's hard to describe..."

"I believe you, Téa," Yuugi returned, having heard some of it. They both stilled, and Kaiba seemed stunned that Yuugi was taking her crazy words over his logical ones. "You're my friend."

Irritated now, Kaiba passed her back the phone, having given up on convincing Yuugi that she couldn't be telling the truth. Téa spoke into the phone again. "When Marik was attacking me, I got the feeling of —how can I explain it— this connection to him and to this other person, far away from me. The person has to be in Japan, that's where everything came to an end, really, wasn't it? The tournament." She took a deep breath. In the silence, she could hear nothing but the buzzing of the speakers of the phone, and wondered if Yuugi was fully taking everything in that she said. "I felt like, the more of the soul that was brought forward from me, the more that I could feel all these other emotions. Tension. Apprehension. Anger."

Yuugi sighed a little, and she could picture him running his fingers uncertainly through his hair as he thought. "So...you got an impression of what he was feeling. From all three of the connections? Or just from the one part of him that was in you?"

Téa groaned. "All of them. Yuugi, all I really know is that the last bit of soul that Marik wants to collect definitely knows that he's the last one remaining. And he's angry about it. I don't want him lashing out and attacking you or anyone else to try and force Marik's hand. His hand. I mean, he's himself. But...not. Uh...I didn't realize before, this is confusing, isn't it...?"

Soothingly, Yuugi promised, "I won't be hurt. I'm more concerned about you, really. Do what the doctors say, okay? Get lots of rest. Marik will figure out what to do with himself, I'm sure. And I'll be there to help him, if he needs it."

Tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, Téa rubbed her jaw gingerly in distraction from the pain. Sleep did sound wonderfully inviting. Sleep, and some good painkillers. Marik really knew how to inflict pain. She was sure she looked like she'd spilled green and purple paint on herself. "Okay," she whispered, trying to feel assured. Kaiba gave her a look, clearing expecting some sort of miserable pleading or breakdown. But instead she just wished her friend a good day and hung up. The phone was returned to Kaiba's pocket.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said to her, mockingly, "from past situations, you should know by now that Yuugi and that geek squad of his always manage to save the day."

She threw a pillow at him.

xXx

It had indeed been early when Téa had called, but Yuugi had been pulling an all-nighter to attempt to study for his college exams. Now as he sat back in his desk chair, he wondered if he would be able to sleep even though he was clearly exhausted. Every nerve was wired. His mind felt scrambled with calculations and definitions and the sudden news that Dark Marik was on the loose once more. And not only was he loose, but he'd been loose for probably quite some time now. And Yuugi had known nothing of it.

He knew Marik wouldn't want outside help for his problems, but it struck him hard that he hadn't been informed of anything. Of what had been going on. Stretching his legs out under his desk, arms dropping behind his head, he wondered if the other Ishtars were involved, or if Marik was going through everything on his own.

Téa was in the hospital. How bad was it? Yuugi didn't know, but it made his stomach twist uncomfortably as he thought about it, and he wondered if Marik could have removed the soul piece without any harm to her. If it would have even been possible. Still. Had there been any apology? Any regret? Was he holding onto his phone now, debating on calling her and wishing her well?

At the very least, Kaiba was there. He could be counted on. If he said he was going to make sure that she was okay, he was, and that's all there was to it. Kaiba wasn't a man who went back on his word.

Closing his books and setting them aside, Yuugi got up from his desk and went to go make himself some dry toast, to see if he could settle his stomach. Even if there was going to be something bad happening soon, half of him wondered if it was all going to be solved without his involvement at all. So it was best not to think too much on it, and try and relax.

Hours passed without incident. Then, nearing noon, something rather hard and heavy crashed through the window and hit Yuugi square in the head.

He didn't remember much after that.

xXx

Though his thoughts were spinning far too quickly through his head to make much sense of them, Yuugi did latch on to the idea that he was probably feeling the same as Téa had, when she'd first woken up. Dizzy, disoriented. Numb, to some extent. He wriggled his fingers and toes to reassure himself of his body working properly. Eyes squinted in the dim light, taking in the small room. Dust, everywhere. Granted, he was having trouble seeing it, but judging by the irritation in his throat he was breathing it in just fine. The floors were wood; they creaked as he shifted in the hard-backed chair he was tied to. His bindings were too tight, moreover, giving him the pins and needles feeling in his hands and feet. But this unpleasantness was mild compared to the messages he kept getting from his head. Another hit like the one he'd taken, and he was sure he'd crack his skull right open. The migraine was excruciating.

Someone was making their way to the room, creaking all the way down the hall. The door opened with some mild protest, like the doorframe didn't quite fit it. Yuugi tried to keep his face straight as he got a look at who was entering the room, but couldn't manage to hide his surprise. A crumpled suit hanging loosely on a lanky form was just dirtied enough for Yuugi to imagine that he'd been living in the dusty house (was it a house? he didn't know) for a while. Dark hair was tied in a loose bun, frizzy and unkempt. A scuffed mask hid the man's face from view. But Yuugi murmured, "Arkana."

The man took several long strides to his position, his eyes locked on Yuugi's. They looked distinctly purple, even in the dim light. "No," he chided, "Marik." _Dark Marik_, Yuugi's mind corrected.

Wetting his lips, Yuugi listened to the floor creak as Dark Marik stopped a foot from his position. He straightened in his seat and kept moving his fingers and toes, trying to restore blood circulation. "Marik, then," Yuugi returned carefully.

"What, no demands for freedom? No shouts for help?" Asked his kidnapper, attempting a mocking tone but only sounding angry and contemptuous.

"You didn't try to harm me beyond the initial knockout," Yuugi worked out slowly, studying the man in front of him. Dark Marik could not have been any tenser, even if a bomb was set to go off in the room. "You didn't take me from my home because of something you have against me," Yuugi said, having known the truth from the start, "you're using me because of something else. Someone else."

A pale hand grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward slightly, and Yuugi felt his balance shift alarmingly as the chair was made to support his weight on two legs instead of four. If Dark Marik let go, he'd fall right over. "Main personality wouldn't dare to absorb me with you in danger," he hissed in his ear, mask scraping against his cheek. Yuugi felt his ears ring and his head ache. "You of all people. You, the Pharaoh's former vessel. You, Yuugi, who solved the Puzzle. He owes you. So there's no use for him to fight me, when he knows I'll take it out on you if he tries."

He's trembling, Yuugi thought hazily. His eyes watched the little spasms of the hand gripping his shirt, the muscle twitches in his forehead. "I don't understand," Yuugi said very quietly, trying not to agitate him. He exhaled. "Wouldn't being back in your original body be ideal?"

"No!" Dark Marik shouted, flinging him backward. The chair crashed to the floor, and Yuugi cried out as his head knocked against the wood. With the chair now on its side, he was facing the wall more than anything, so couldn't see him snarl and stamp around the room, though he could hear it. "He's gotten spoon fed ancient beliefs and morals and bloody values in all the time that we've been separated. He's so wrapped up in being a man worthy of leading the clan that nothing would make him think otherwise. Main personality doesn't like darkness and crime anymore, Yuugi! I'd cease existing, if his desire to see me gone still existed when he absorbed me. We'd be the same person again, don't you see?"

A frustrated scream accentuated the stomps, and Yuugi felt a dull thump reverberate through the floor as Dark Marik seemingly punched his fist into the wall. He tried to breathe slowly, tried to calm his heartbeat. The situation didn't make any sense to him; he couldn't understand how the same person could be split into two dividing opinions, beliefs, and have one half not want to be whole again. Thinking about it and trying to sort it out only gave him a bigger migraine. At any rate, he suddenly seemed to be caught in the middle of it, and it made him feel an indescribable guilt to know that Téa's warning had gone to waste. He was in exactly the sort of position she'd feared he'd be in.

Trying to reason with his kidnapper would be like trying to reason with a brick wall. He'd need a wrecking ball to even begin to make any dent in the man's train of thought. Yuugi wanted to ask why being the same person again was so bad, wanted to know why it made him so furious, but with the image of a brick wall in his head he only held his tongue and tried to figure out how to get out of the chair. Things would be much easier if he could be seen as standing on equal ground with the man, not as a hostage but as a worthy opponent willing to help him sort out all the issues he was having. Yuugi's fingers twisted and bent around his bindings, trying to force a hole big enough for his hands to slip out. But Dark Marik only said, "It's no use, you fool. I ran a criminal organization for years. You think I don't know how to tie an effective knot?"

Yuugi grit his teeth, realizing he was right.

The stomping and frustrated noises had stopped, and now Dark Marik walked over to kneel down at his level, meeting his eyes and saying in a cool voice, "You can do nothing, where you are now. So just wait quietly, Yuugi, for my other self to arrive. Soon we'll finish this. And I will be the one left standing." He'd seemingly regained his composure, and grinned widely at him, the corners of his lips disappearing under the mask. Yuugi thought briefly that Dark Marik wasn't the sort of person to care much for masks —it would have been more like him to discard it and let Yuugi see the disfigured face of his vessel, for kicks. Maybe he wasn't thinking too clearly, as distracted as he was with his situation.

Or maybe, Yuugi thought while staring into the eyes of his kidnapper, there's some portion of Arkana's mind still clinging on, that's not crushed by Dark Marik's will.

"Technically it'd be Arkana standing," Yuugi said without thinking, "you're just a parasite along for the ride."

He slammed his fist into Yuugi's jaw, snarling.

Okay, thought Yuugi, his vision flashing from the painful blow. He's not quite as calm and collected as he's trying to make me believe.

He was grateful when his kidnapper left, slamming the door shut behind him. It gave Yuugi some time to think over what he could possibly do or say to fix the mess he was in.

Hours ticked by.

Something splintered and smashed in the distance, behind several walls.

There was a tiny, uneasy voice in the back of Yuugi's mind that thought that the two personalities of the same mind were so alike, no matter their differences in opinion. As the floor rumbled from some distant crash or explosion —Yuugi didn't know which— he wondered blearily if Dark Marik had expected himself to use the same breaking and entering move on him as he'd done on Yuugi.

xXx

He was being held a good foot above the ground by a pale, trembling hand, his bindings having been cut loose. The cuts had been rough, careless, and Yuugi felt his hands and socks grow sticky from the minor lacerations. It wasn't enough of a pain to detract from the one in his head, however. Yuugi held on tightly to the hand gripped in his collar, wondering how steady he'd be if he was dropped suddenly. Even though there was only a foot between him and the ground, he couldn't help but think that his dizziness would cause him to topple over the moment he was let go.

"Hah," sneered the original Marik, fingers clenching and unclenching in anticipation, "you knew I was stronger. You _knew_ you couldn't beat me without something else up your sleeve."

Both of them were sweating, whether from mental stress or physical, Yuugi didn't know. Marik's clothing had been visibly dirtied by whatever brawling they'd done before reaching his room, and now he matched Dark Marik's grubby appearance save for the jewellery. Yuugi tried to read the Egyptian's face, wondering how concerned he was for his safety. Wondering if he was thinking about anything other than himself. If maybe he'd do the same thing he'd done with Téa —go as far as he needed to in order to remove the piece of himself from Arkana's body. Would he glare at Dark Marik as he was hurt, or stare emotionlessly like he was something disposable?

"I'm not foolish like you," Dark Marik retorted with venom, "So of course I'm going to make absolutely sure that I'll win. Yuugi is just...insurance."

Marik ground his teeth like he wanted to start shouting, but he held his tongue. "You don't think I'd stand for him getting hurt, huh? When I was the one who came up with all of those plans at Battle City? Who'd kill without a second thought? That was me, not you! You were just the excess anger and hate, that's all you were! Stray thoughts and emotions that smeared into my own consciousness. Now that you've been cut away, you have _no idea_ what sort of man I've become. You don't want to mess with me," his voice dropped in tone and became a murmur, and all Yuugi could see of his face was his perfect white, straight teeth. He vaguely wondered what sort of dentistry had been available to a man who'd just got out from living underground since he'd been born.

"I'm my own person now," Dark Marik snapped back, though his voice sounded oddly hollow; lacking bite to it. Marik just grinned his perfect white smile. "I've become different, too. And in the end, all you ever were to me was just a scared child, hating the world he lived in. I'm stronger than you, main personality—" here he cut off, like he'd wanted to call Marik something else but had forgotten, "—because of what you made me. Even if I was just the anger that leaked into your subconscious, I was built to handle death and destruction and torture. And you know what? That's why I'll survive, and you won't. You'll whittle away into nothingness, if you attempt to absorb me once more." He had become more confident the more he spoke, and Yuugi could see that even though he'd likely just come up with every word he'd said on the spot, he now wholeheartedly believed it all. His eyes grew hard to match Marik's tauntingly wide smirk. Both of them, equally furious.

"That's good," Yuugi grumbled, feeling a tad better about the situation. They started, jerking their heads at him like they'd forgotten he was there. Dark Marik scowled in confusion. "You're conversing," Yuugi elaborated, "I didn't think you'd stop to talk to each other. That's good: that's a step in the right direction. You're both, uh...stating your feelings very clearly. Don't you feel a bit better, now that you understand where each other stands?" He worked his fingers into a different position, feeling the ache as his arms grew tired with supporting his weight, even though technically it was Dark Marik's grip in his shirt that held him in the air.

Coldly, Marik crossed his arms and said from behind his teeth, "Stay out of this, Yuugi. And don't think we're just going to talk this out. This isn't something that can be solved through peaceful negotiations." Those were the words that came out of his throat, almost like a warning if anything, but he was shooting Yuugi a look that just read 'Shut up.'

"So what _are_ you going to do then," Yuugi asked sincerely with an exasperated huff, anxious for his safety but not afraid enough to keep quiet and let two temperamental minds sort everything out. He went on, "Before you even found out I was here, Marik, what were you planning on doing? Instigating a fist fight? Engaging in a shouting match?"

"We were going to try and make the other surrender through any means necessary, so that there would only be one Marik," Dark Marik put in helpfully. He was having trouble remaining angry when his hostage insisted on talking to them.

Yuugi wet his lips and squirmed in his grip uncomfortably. "Well, have at it then. Maybe it'll do you both some good to wear yourselves out." The remark was so unexpected that Dark Marik nearly dropped him, and Marik actually dropped his cool façade for a moment to look bothered.

Frowning, Yuugi's kidnapper shook his head. "No, I need to keep hold of you. That's why you're here —so that main personality will give up on trying to get rid of me without a fight..."

"You _are_ him, aren't you? Or were? Look at yourself; do you really think that having me here is going to make a difference in the end? If you were in his shoes —uh, your former shoes— what would you be thinking in this situation?" Yuugi argued. Maybe he could convince the man to let him go, if nothing else. If this couldn't be resolved peacefully, at the very least maybe he could get himself off of the playing field and onto the sidelines. Yuugi felt certain that this was the sort of private matter that he probably shouldn't be intruding on. Though, they had gotten Téa involved, those two...

Dark Marik didn't look uncertain, but he did seem uneasy. He wasn't looking at Yuugi anymore, but at himself, who stared right back unblinkingly. Yuugi could practically picture the gears turning in his mind. Surely the two of them knew each other better than anyone else. Surely they knew each other well enough to be able to predict every thought and every action that the other would take. Or had the years spent apart separated their personalities enough to make them near strangers to each other?

As someone who'd once been host to a soul as well, Yuugi knew well enough that he'd influenced the spirit of the Puzzle, just as the spirit had influenced him. It made him wonder, therefore, if the same thing applied in Dark Marik's situation. Had Arkana influenced him just enough to give him a different perspective on life? Although Yuugi didn't know much about the magician, he did know that he'd loved a woman once, and had been willing to do anything to get her to love him back. Possibly, just possibly, those warm feelings of love and devotion had been introduced into Dark Marik's mind.

It'd significantly change the outcome of their argument, if Dark Marik felt even a shred of caring for his former body and mind. Or for Yuugi.

"You're right," Dark Marik declared, surprising both of them. He pulled Yuugi closer and abruptly switched tactics. "I need to stop threatening violence, because that's something I'd be able to handle seeing inflicted on others, isn't it? Even if it's you of all people, huh, Yuugi?" Yuugi just swallowed at the low tone and widened his eyes when Dark Marik grinned and then decided to lick a line up his cheek.

Across the room, Marik exploded. He was at their side in an instant, wrenching Yuugi out of Dark Marik's grasp, who could only stumble backward in shock, feet having trouble supporting him. The two of them tumbled to the creaking floor in a bout of angry shouting and fists moving and legs kicking.

Well, so much for conversation, Yuugi thought, regaining his footing.

They had bloodied their fists in the time it took for him to blink, and at some point in their lashing out at each other a knife was introduced into the fight, which snapped away from one of their hands not a moment later. It clattered across the floor, and Yuugi grabbed for it frantically, not wanting them to use it to hurt each other. His chest was twisting with concern for them —and Arkana, who was caught in the midst of something he didn't likely deserve.

Marik was yelling something foreign, less coherent than his curses and threats that he'd been shouting earlier, and he banged the flat of his palm against the crown of his other self's head. Dark Marik got a good hit in his gut, and for a moment the Egyptian lost his breath and whatever he'd been doing failed him; his chest deflated and he knocked their heads together to try and give himself time to recover.

Although he was nothing to them anymore, Yuugi refused to stand by and let such a vicious fight continue in front of him, whatever the reasons were. No matter how much they might have wanted it. He dove into a tackle, knocking Dark Marik away from Marik as he tried to get in another heavy hit to Marik's gut, who was now gasping as his diaphragm settled back into its proper position in his abdomen.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of this?" Marik gasped at him, and then muttered something unintelligible before saying quickly, "hold him there!"

Dizzy, head _aching_ beyond belief, Yuugi obeyed, because in the end Dark Marik was an enemy and Marik was an ally and that's all there was to it. Never mind the writhing and shrieks of the man barely held back by Yuugi. "It's for your own good, okay?" Yuugi tried to placate him, though his voice trembled as he was no less distraught. He bit his tongue and held on so tightly that he was sure he was leaving marks behind. Arms pinned, Dark Marik used his feet instead, flipping them over and reaching for the knife handle sticking out of Yuugi's pocket.

"How would you have liked it, you selfish naïve little brat, if Pharaoh had decided that he wasn't happy with you anymore, and wanted to live without you?" Dark Marik screamed at him, grabbing hold of the sharp blade.

"_Exactly_!" Marik screamed from behind him, and grabbed hold of Dark Marik's face.

Leeching the soul that had once belonged to him off of his vessel, Marik was preoccupied with the thin white film he was sucking out of Arkana and so didn't notice the mask fall off of his face, having been knocked off when Marik had grabbed him. Yuugi looked upward into the violet-turning-brown eyes; at the horrible fear etched so clearly into the twist of his lips and the deadened look on his face, and he nearly emptied his stomach. Behind the thick scarring covering the majority of the man's face, were the two souls of a body now experiencing a feeling one should never have to experience.

Dark Marik was becoming nonexistent, and Arkana was feeling every bit of it.

The white wisps dried up and soaked into Marik's skin, and he closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of having a whole soul again. Yuugi could only crawl out from under the collapsing Arkana, who had felt the death of his possessor so vividly that he just dropped to the ground without a sound, in shock.

Marik gave him a confused look at his sickened expression, not understanding why he was not rejoicing at seeing another human being freed by his dark side. But Yuugi did not return his look and only stumbled out into the hall, where he found a dingy bathroom and finally gave up trying to keep the bile down.

xXx

It had turned out to be an old theatre house, once used for live plays and drama performances. Yuugi imagined that Dark Marik had used it because it had been familiar to his host, and he wondered if either of them felt a nostalgia towards the beaten up, run-down place. Or if perhaps they were just as uncaring about the past, and saw it only as something that could serve a purpose. Then he wondered if they'd felt any good feelings at all, and when he considered that his stomach only flipped over and he was forced to breathe deeply so as not to upset it anymore.

He'd decided, after thinking over it for a few minutes, that Arkana was not likely to be so depressed from then on. After experiencing a death so clearly, Yuugi figured that it would only make sense for the man to want to try his hardest to live out an enjoyable life, so as not to feel anything like that ever again. So maybe, in the end, the possession had been good for him. Maybe. Yuugi resolved to check up on him, when he could. They hadn't spoken after leaving the building, but as Yuugi had waited for a ride and Marik for his, Arkana had given him a quiet look before walking down the street. It was the sort of look of a man who'd just had his darkest secret revealed, and realized it wasn't nearly as dark as he'd been believing for so many years. He walked away from them with the mask in his hand, defeated and purposeless but without the mask on his face, nevertheless.

Yuugi just wanted to get home. He wanted to phone Téa and apologize profusely before explaining everything—

He wanted to phone Kaiba and let the words sink in without even speaking them: 'She was right, you know.'

xXx

The voice he'd both dreaded hearing and needed to hear, saying all the things he expected but that still relieved him to listen to, "I knew you could do it."

"Mhm," Marik mumbled, just listening to the deep tone on the other end, the Arabic that he'd been missing since he'd left Egypt.

"I had faith in you, Marik. You always accomplished whatever you set out to do, with few exceptions. And even then...it was only yourself you were fighting, in the end. By taking care of this yourself, you've proved to me that you don't need me anymore. That you can live without depending on me. I'm proud of you."

"I know."

"Our sister is worried about you, you know. She frets, paces around the house. Calls me constantly to be sure you haven't called me and just not her. So the very moment you get home to the clan, you must see her."

Deep, controlled breathing. Calm appearance was everything. But inside, Marik was crumbling. He didn't know if he could do it. He didn't know if he could live with knowing he was possibly the man with two personalities, once more. Everything depended on his darker self's absolute assimilation into himself. Marik refused to destroy worlds, build empires, and go after Pharaohs long dead once more. _And he had a clan to lead. _"I'll make sure to do that," Marik said after a lengthy pause, making sure his voice was even.

The brother of his on the other end of the phone line knew instantly what was wrong. "You're going to be okay," he soothed, still in that certain tone of his, "everything is going to be fine. You will come back home, and now that everything is over, you will learn to live out your life differently. We'll help. Everyone will help."

"Okay."

"The clan needs you," said the calm, steady voice, and Marik plugged his other ear to only listen to that sound. He was busy trying to convince himself that he was a perfectly normal human being once more, and needed no distractions. "Your family. So you aren't going to do anything to upset them."

Marik just repeated the words in his head.

"Okay, brother?"

"Okay." Marik said, and the conversation was nothing he hadn't anticipated, but he went through the motions of agreement and paying attention and responding regardless.

Then they said their good-byes, and he promised to keep in touch. The call was ended.

Marik looked up at the world around him, breathed in, and put on his confident façade once more.

The End.


End file.
